Sleepover
by Lozzimal
Summary: 5 teenagers over for a sleepover, what else do a Grimm and a Big Bad Wolf do but hide upstairs? Fluff, pre slash


Sleep over

Nick/Monroe slash, fluff

Pure, unadulterated fluff – had on my Mac for a while, so before Season 2 has aired in the US. Oh, and no Juliette, she's gone in this one.

* * *

"What the hell…?" Monroe said quietly as he was listening to the noises from downstairs. "Are they playing poker? Dude, your kids are playing poker!"

Nick looked up from his laptop and smiled at his companion. "Our kids, Monroe," he reminded him. "Our kids. And who invited them over here for a sleep over, huh?" he added, amused.

"Huh," Monroe commented after a few moments, and folded his arms across his chest. "Only so you didn't get lonely," And also so he could come along too and spend some quality time with his injured Grimm.

"Right," the Grimm commented dryly. "Yet here we are, hiding upstairs."

Indeed they were, both in Nick's bed, in the bedroom of Nick's house, while a Reinigan, a Jagerbar, a Blutbad and a couple of humans, all teenagers, were playing poker downstairs in the living room. Holly, Roddy and Barry had, well, bonded was the best explanation when they had all been over at Monroe's place a few weeks ago for some Wieder lessons, the two seemed to calm Barry down a bit, and Gracie and Hanson had been thrown into the mix when the trio had met up with them to go out one day.

"Excuse me, I'm bisexual!" one of the kids said loudly, and Nick shot a hand out to hold on to Monroe's arm before he could think about bounding down the stairs and check they weren't… Nick didn't really know what Monroe thought they were going to do.

"Don't worry, Monroe," he soothed the elder Blutbad. "It's fine, it's good that they know themselves enough, and it's very good that none of the others have said anything derogatory." He was right, they hadn't, and Monroe calmed down a bit.

But the wolf couldn't help but listen in, he had superior hearing after all and the kids weren't trying to be quiet. Now they were talking about men with Victorian values, treating women as if they didn't enjoy sex, and he shuddered and covered his ears with his hands.

Nick laughed quietly and nudged him with an elbow, getting his attention. "It's fine," he tried to reassure him, and quickly pushed the next one of Marie's books at him. "Help me with this, you big bad wolf," he asked him, fondly. "Stop eavesdropping."

Monroe took the book and opened it up, huffing as he did so. "'I ain't dropped no eaves, Mister Grimm'" he paraphrased, trying to put on an accent that might have sounded like Sam, or not. It made Nick laugh anyway, which had been the point. "It's not exactly difficult to listen in though," he grumbled as the five downstairs all decided to shriek with laughter together. "It's just lucky your neighbours are quite far away."

Nick nodded, wincing at the noise and nudged him again. "Come on, Doggy, read." he replied, and grinned at him, completely unrepentant when Monroe turned to him with a glare.

"All right, pup," the Blutbad retorted, and did as he was asked.

* * *

Nick had decided that yes, Aunt Marie's books were very impressive, some of them beautiful, but they were huge and in the 21st century, cumbersome. So he had given himself a project; putting them onto his laptop, everything saved into encrypted, passworded files, turning the vast library in Marie's trailer into a vast digital library he could access on the move. It had taken some time, with Monroe's help, to scan all the drawings, diagrams, maps and other pictures in using the 4 in 1 Nick had at home, it had taken over a month, more like two, just to do that. Now he was on the words, he'd tried to scan those in as well but the writing in most of them was just too ornate for the program he had bought to decipher it. He had started on his own, not wanting to use up more of his best friend's time, even though he loved spending time with him, but Monroe had brushed aside his concerns. Monroe wasn't going to tell him that he liked doing this for him, he loved spending time with him too; he thought the Grimm knew it anyway, and he learnt a lot from it too.

So here they were, hiding upstairs in Nick's house, Monroe reading out the information on Klaustreich, spelling out the German words to him, giving him his own insight on them, while Nick typed it all in, arranging the words around the drawings they had found on them. He had his laptop balanced on a lap tray on a pillow on his lap, making sure there was no weight on his damaged limbs, and tried to concentrate on the words Monroe was telling him, not the sound of his voice, his tone, inflections and the warmth of him sitting next to him.

He felt safe with Monroe near him, whatever the man said about him being too trusting, the Blutbad had shown him time and again what he would do to keep Nick safe. He was sticking close this time, Nick knew he felt guilty about what had happened, but there was nothing he could have done about his latest injuries. It wasn't even Wesen issues that had caused this bout; Nick and Hank had been chasing a suspect in a car who had murdered her girlfriend's husband in a fit of jealous rage when they had been broadsided by a garbage truck at an intersection. The truck had hit on Nick's side, flipping the car over several times, and he had been trapped by his legs, crushed against the door.

Monroe had been surprised, scared stupid, but surprised, to get the call from Captain Renard (he still couldn't figure out what sort of Wesen that guy was), telling him that Nick was on his way to hospital and he should get there. He was still surprised, awed even, that Nick had listed him as his emergency contact, pleased though because it got him virtually unlimited access to his injured friend. Injured he was, _still_ was, Nick's right leg had been badly damaged, he'd had extensive surgery on it, his knee especially, and now he would set of any metal detector in the vicinity for the amount of rods and screws holding his bones together. He was healing though, he could move, with help, but he was still so vulnerable, which was one reason why Monroe was here with him and the kids were downstairs. One of the other reasons was he was probably in love with the guy, Monroe had done some soul searching and had figured that one out all by himself, and wouldn't his family like that? A) He was a Wieder Blutbad and b) in love with a Grimm? They would never let him back into the den or the pack again, ever. So he sat next to him at the head of his bed, Nick's leg propped up on some more pillows, reading to him about alley cats while the kids watched some odd things on the big TV downstairs, mooched off Nick's wifi and generally made enough noise to scare off the most courageous of enemies.

And when the detective shifted a bit because he was getting uncomfortable Monroe slipped one of his arms around his waist and pulled him close so he was leaning against him, Nick didn't say anything about it, just leant close and borrowed some of his strength. They stayed like that for a while, Monroe reading, Nick typing, until the Grimm had had enough. He sighed and saved everything, then pushed the laptop away from him and shifted around some so he could look Monroe in the face. "Are you sure you don't mind?" he asked him, his blue eyes wide with concern.

"No, idiot," Monroe answered him fondly, his tone taking out any harshness in his words. "You know me, if I minded I'd tell you."

"Bitch at me more like," Nick commented, his grin wide.

"I do not bitch," the wolf retorted archly, affronted. "I am definitely not a bitch, I can show you, if you like."

Nick snorted with laughter and leant back against him for a few moments. "Kvetch, then. Rant, complain, moan and groan," he added, his head resting on Monroe's strong shoulder.

The Blutbad put the book down carefully and embraced the Grimm with both arms, holding him close. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he asked him, his voice muffled in Nick's soft hair.

Nick shifted as close to him as he could get without moving his leg, and slid a hand under his companion's shirt. "Probably the same as you do to me," he replied, his voice muffled, but he knew Monroe had heard him. The guy let him go with one arm and used that to lift his chin, bringing Nick's face up so he could look at him. He studied him closely; his beautiful eyes, soft but pale skin, full mouth, and smiled at him. "Push me away if you don't want it, Nick," he instructed moved down to gently cover the detective's lips with his own.

For a first kiss it was pretty good, gentle at first, but Nick opened his mouth when Monroe licked his lips to let him in. The wolf licked into Nick's mouth, tasting his sweet warmth, exploring him, and smiled to himself with the Grimm gave back as good as he got. Their tongues jousted, twisting together, and Nick moved his hands to cup and caress Monroe's face as they continued. They only broke off when the need for air was imperative and Monroe looked down at him and smiled. "You taste good," he murmured, and to show him he meant it he kissed him again. Nick wanted to get close to him, wanted to feel more of him, all of him against him, wanted Monroe to move those large, talented hands all over him, touch him, as he wanted to do all of that to the big wolf, but, as soon as he tried to move, he was reminded of the reasons why he couldn't, not yet. His leg screamed in pain when he tried to move, to straddle Monroe's hips, and he couldn't hold back a gasp and curse of pain. He pushed away from Monroe and ended up bent at the waist over his leg, eyes squeezed shut and biting his lip to stop from crying. Monroe swore too and settled close to him, rubbing his back as he tried to soothe him. "It's all right, Nick," he murmured, and waited him out.

Nick groaned when the initial sharp pain had subsided to an ache and leant against his protector. "I just wanted to get closer," he grumbled and turned his face to the strong wall of his friend's shoulder.

Monroe hugged him close and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Me too," he replied and sighed. "But obviously you're not quite ready. Do you need another painkiller?"

Nick grumbled unintelligibly which Monroe took as a yes. He smiled at the noise, and pressed a kiss to his temple before he reached to the nightstand and almost an entire pharmacy on the top. He selected the right one, grabbed the bottle of water there, and handed them both to his little Grimm, still trying to lean against him. "Here," he said to him, and pulled him back against him when Nick took the proffered pills and washed them down with some water. They took a while to take effect and he just let Monroe hold him close and then manhandle him so he was lying down on his side, sunk into a load of pillows. That was most comfortable for him, they had found that out in the hospital, he could lie on his undamaged side, a couple of pillows between his thighs, knees and ankles so he wasn't putting too much pressure on the limbs. And it also helped that Monroe loved to spoon too – he covered Nick up with the duvet and snuggled up behind him under it too, slipping his arms around him to hold him close. "Go to sleep, Nick," he said softly to him and pressed a kiss to the nape of Nick's neck. "I'll make sure the kids are okay."

Nick sighed and nodded, closing his eyes. "And you can kiss me some more," he murmured, already getting sleepy. But he was still awake enough to cover Monroe's large hands with his own and interlock their fingers.

His Blutbad huffed a gently laugh and kissed him again. "Now that is probably the best idea you've had in a while," he told him fondly. "I will happily kiss you all day long. Now, go to sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

Nick grinned, squeezed his fingers and did was he was told. He found it easy to fall asleep with Monroe pressed up large, warm and reassuringly against him, and he hoped it would last for a long, long time.

* * *

Roddy waited for Barry to go round the ground floor of the house, checking all the doors and windows were closed and locked, to creep upstairs and check on the old guys. It was after 2am now, the girls had curled up in their sleeping bags on the thick rugs on the floor of the living room, and he was just about to do the same with his but needed to check on the other guys upstairs. The pair had made it their aim in life to make sure he was okay, that he remained in school (that Frank Rabe, of all people, had managed to get him back into), he kept playing, and he felt he owed them, neither of them had to do that for him after all. Nick had even made sure that tonight Barry wouldn't get into any trouble for not being at home, the Grimm had called the court this morning and asked them to adjust his curfew for the night, something else he didn't need to do.

He made his way silently up the stairs, he was a rat after all, he could be silent and quick, and stood outside the partially open bedroom door for a few moments to listen in, hoping they weren't doing anything that might scar him for life. All he could hear was breathing and a snore or two that he attributed to Monroe, and he opened the door a little more so he could see what was going on.

There was a reading light still on, not very bright, but enough for him to see the pair of them snuggled together in bed, Nick on the inside, propped up with pillows, and Monroe spooned tightly against him. The Blutbad opened one lazy eye to see who it was and smiled slightly at Roddy when he noticed him, catalogued him as no threat to the Grimm. "Bed time," he stated softly to the young man, and relaxed more when Roddy nodded. "Good," he approved. "Can you turn that light off?" he asked and looked meaningfully at the light on Nick's nightstand.

Roddy nodded and walked in, quiet and light on his feet to not disturb the cop. "Is he all right?" he asked as he did so, and smiled when Monroe nodded.

"He's getting better," the wolf replied. "Good night, Roddy," he added firmly, and the young man laughed quietly and flicked off the light, knowing what he was saying without saying it. "Night, Monroe," the young Reinigan replied, and walked quickly out of the darkened room, pulling the door too as he left.

He grinned a bit more when he heard Monroe call out: "Whippersnapper," and jogged down the stairs to claim his own sleeping bag and a space near Barry on the sofa and chair cushions they had spread out over the living room floor.

End


End file.
